Juliet's Tears
by Giry Triche
Summary: How far can one go for memories? Sequel.
1. 14th February 2022

AN: I managed to finish the plot and it looked good for me, so I decided to push through with the sequel. Well, I hope it'll look good for you too, whoever's reading this.

Recap. You might not be able to understand this unless you've read _**I love thee**_. This is a sequel to that, and I am hoping to make this more cerebral, as for the remaining clues I left in its predecessor can fit this in such a way that it'll actually make sense and justifies the pairing, rating and title, despite being cryptic (hopefully haha. I'm practicing to be a better writer, and this serves as both a hobby an training ground).

And as for that info I managed to dig up, that became the basis for this sequel? You'll find out. Believe it or not, it is not fan made.

Enjoy.

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><p>The kindest, brownest eyes.<p>

The most beautiful gold hair.

She had a white, luminous halo, and that was what defined her from the crowd.

Yet.

The saddest person in the whole world.

"_I love you... You're everything to me now..."_

I brush away a tear. It's no use crying over something that could have been.

It's been eleven years, after all.

But I keep coming back here, to remember the sad lady who meant the world.

In a short time, she meant the world to me.

She replaced something that I've lost, though I was too naïve back then to realize the pain.

Until four years ago.

Out of habit, I tug at my hair.

I had to smile. She used to fuss over this mess.

Maybe that's why I never get haircuts like the usual person.

This imperfection serves a memory.

That's all I have left of her, being my anchor, when at times, I would grieve because her image was starting to blur, and this memory brings her face back.

The people in my life, those who knew her, never spoke a word about her. I love them. But I also hate them for that. I have this fierce sense that I deserved to know anything that they could offer about her. For the past years, ever since I knew that she was really gone, I always felt this chasm within me.

And I feel that the only way to fill this, is to know this woman.

I will have to do this on my own.

I will no longer beg for scraps, as they will only give me dry bones.

Somehow, I have learned that I have a gift.

I can solve puzzles in a heartbeat.

Beat nationally ranked chess players in a few minutes.

Devise plans that can sweep the rug out of any bully's feet before they can even fathom the tugging of the fabrics. Well, it's a no-brainer mostly, since they don't have much in that department to begin with.

And so on.

I can never explain how and why I can do such things.

But that will be a mystery to solve for another time.

I have bigger fish to fry.

My goal is set.

My way is_

***RING***

"Yes?"

Of course, the biggest obstacle is always getting past watchful sentinels whose calibers are way more polished than the student's, no matter how lauded his skills are to other people.

"You went off again. You missed your plane. You wasted a day."

Sentinels who also have a knack of hitting the sure sore spot.

"I'm sorry. I had to visit."

"I know you do. But I never did give up on you despite the highest percentage known to determined men are tagged on your person."

He may not be the most sensitive guy in the planet, but he has a soft spot for me somewhere. I'm sure of this, because he took care of me for a while before, and that tends to leave a mark on the person.

It sure did to me.

"Well, don't worry. I'll be on the next possible plane."

"Good. And, kid."

Ok, he really has to stop calling me that. But I guess I owe him for being a stubborn ass and wasting that prime seat ticket. "Yeah."

"Someday, I hope you realize that what you have now is more than enough, rather than scavenging for ghosts of the past. She sure did."

I try to keep my resentment from my voice. "But look where she is now. The person who left so many questions."

"Yet the reason why you have a great memory to tell you that you're human enough to love, unlike a certain individual who found out too late. Goodbye. I have work to do. Think about it, kid."

The phone was in my pocket before the line went dead, but I caught his words.

Sometimes, he can really grate at me. From my own personal deduction so far, there is a chance that my sentinel wants me to become a successor.

L.

He is the world's greatest detective. The police's last resort, the ultimate trump card of the justice force. But I don't want his name. Not anymore. I want a peaceful life. Uncomplicated. That's what she would have wanted.

It might strike so odd that an orphan such as I would rather look for people who are not in any way blood related to me, instead of my real parents.

At a young age in my life, I've already accepted the fact that I am alone. I never knew my mother and father, hence, despite that this will sound incredibly cruel, I do not feel any attachments to them at all. I wonder about them when I display some traits that catch a slight interest every now and then, but that's just about it.

But she has shown me kindness and love. She's someone I could never let go.

It'll be colder in a while. I don't want to catch a cold. Knowing Mister Sentinel's web of information, he'll definitely be pissed. It won't earn me any brownie points from him, if ever he decides, and if my deduction is correct, to have "the talk".

I look back at the gravestone I've been visiting for ten years. The plot of ground that has caught that one single tear I shed each time I visit. She'll never know how much she meant to me. While the grass withers away with the salty tear, she's lying there, cold and unfeeling.

I walk away with this thought.

Sentinel's right. It's no use hanging unto the past.

But the choice is all up to me in the end.

I will find you.

I promise.

Amane-san...


	2. Of Roses and Apples

AN: I'd like to thank the following:

**AnjuHime, QueenVamp, luv-u-alwayz94 **and **YaoiLoverDeathNote1**: For reviewing the last chapter of the predecessor of this fic. And the first three girls for sticking through the whole thing.

Also to my beau. "Reviews or not, you STILL promised people, and you ARE a writer." Yeah. That's my man. Well, on I go. Guess I should finish the sequel before **20 Days **first. I'll be putting that story in hiatus for a bit.

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><p>Has it been so long?<p>

I don't look a day older, they say.

But I feel as if I lived a thousand lifetimes.

Without that one link, it would have been completely empty.

People wonder how I don't get a migraine staring at computer screens all day.

By people, I meant the new batch Nate sent.

I don't blame him for being insultingly distrustful.

It's one of his key characteristics that makes him a formidable opponent to face.

And right now, I am his opponent.

Has he forgotten what happened all those years ago?

Has he forgotten long enough to develop the gall to defy me?

It makes me proud.

But irritable at the same tome.

Whammy could've scrimped a little of those doubts with that boy.

He still holds guilt in him, that boy does.

He blames himself for the loss of that life.

The loss of parents.

And I feel guilty as well, for knowing that I somehow played a part in the scheme of this, and for bearing a bit of ill will towards him.

"When will you tell?"

"I won't. I can't."

"You owe him that much."

"And what do you think I owe her, then?"

A grunt. That's unbecoming for a female, but it's quite comical in a way.

But nothing seems to make me smile anymore.

Despite the sordid performance I had once did in front of such impressionable minds, I am still looked up to. And from that particular group, sprang two phenomenal forces that brought an end to a terror.

But he got the final laugh after all.

I am back in the room again.

Observing moving shapes, these humans not knowing that someone is watching every move, every trickle of sweat trailing down the cheek.

"I love you, you know."

Such words. How much I thought I did not need them, but it filled me with feeling.

Hurt.

Confusion.

Heartbreak...

"I cannot bear to see you like this. Do you think_"

"Don't. Say. It." I didn't mean to ground that out. She meant well.

But some things are better left unsaid.

I look at the clock.

It's been an hour.

My heart starts to pound.

"Don't give yourself a heart failure."

"Hush up."

"Why now?"

"Madness will be labeled unto me again, once I start talking to thin air."

A chuckle. "Since when did you become conscious of what other people think?"

Even the smallest smile felt strange. "Ever since PTA."

I made her laugh. And it felt so good to hear that.

I went to the kitchen, hearing her grumble about my "shuffling".

The roast is getting cold. The soup is congealing.

He never did learn punctuality.

Just like_

No.

Not now.

Red roses are a thing of the past.

"Would you like an apple? Nate sends his greetings."

"From Washington? Beautiful."

I've always dwealt on silence.

But the continuous munching was soothing.

"You don't have to call it a greeting, you know."

Up until now, this again, even after eleven years.

"It's not bad to reminisce every now and then."

"Could you check outside? I don't want any waiting."

A sigh.

I was alone again.

You could call it a defense mechanism.

"_I love you..."_

"_How much do you love me?"_

"_Enough to die..."_

No.

Not right now.

"Yo."

This is the product of contemplation over dead horses.

"You could've warned me."

"I was walking on wood. Wearing steel toed boots."

"That's why we invented cellphones."

A sigh was heard.

A hand clapped on my shoulder before walking towards the table.

A pair of blood red eyes locked unto mine, a small smile. "Nice to see you too, Travis."


	3. Old Friends

AN: Remember the tidbit of Obata-san's had that I've been yammering about in **I love thee**? Have you got it already :) Of course, in writing, you hold the time and elements. Dig?

**QueenVamp: **OMG! YOU CAME BACK! *cries* Uhhh... Is it confusing you in a way that makes you want to read on or hunt for a Death Note and write my name ,:D Thanks for adding me in your Favorites... I'll do my best... By making this story a bit more (if it even was ._.) cerebral than **I love thee**! All will be revealed ;)

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><p>Where am I?<p>

What's that?

A name?

What_

Oh no!

It's happening again!

No more!

Please!

Please...

_e...o...

Gah!

No...

It'll be some more time...

Divert...

DIVERT!

"_I'll be back."_

"_Give me your number, so I can contact you."_

"_Of course."_

_'Bastard.'_

_Everyday, I feel the ache._

_Everyday._

_Ache is an understatement._

_But I have to live._

_Live for that strip._

_Live for my Mephistopheles._

_Everyone around me recoiled._

_I screamed._

_I must have._

_I don't know anymore._

_Everything was throbbing._

_Dimming._

_Throbbing._

_Ripping?_

_I was confused..._

_I wanted to die._

_I wanted the damn, fucking pain to stop!_

_Save my Mephistopheles!_

_I will fight for my breath..._

_But if I have to sacrifice this for him to have his, I will not hesitate..._

_I wish..._

_I wished he looked like his Papa..._

_I wished so hard..._

_Even if I knew I could never keep him..._

_In the end, it was a success..._

_I held him in my arms, despite the protests of the doctor for me to rest while they staunch the blood flow._

_They said I was foolish._

_I don't blame them._

_They didn't know._

_They didn't know then that I was treasuring every moment..._

_He is my only link now..._

_The most precious, physical memory..._

_They whisper to me that he has to go._

_My accomplice for this, my only friend, whispered that my memory will die if they don't treat him._

_My precious, steadily beating memory..._

_Numbing coldness was creeping in my arms as the doctor took him from them._

_But a tug!_

_Around my finger, was that tiny, perfect hand, fingers wrapped around something._

_He was holding unto my finger..._

_He didn't want to leave me!_

_But I did the hardest thing, next to smiling despite the day my whole world fell apart._

_The hardest task a mother have to do to ensure the safety of her child._

_I reached out._

_And gently unwrap his fingers._

_His cry!_

_He cried just now!_

_Even when they pulled him out, he just cried now!_

_I wanted to get him back!_

_But my friend held me close._

_Until I could only cry on their sleeve, my blurring vision fixed on that crying bundle, as he got farther and farther._

_Then it was darkness once more, the feel of his perfect little fingers like a vice on my finger..._

_And the pain of his cry etched deep into my heart..._

It worked...

Pain diverts pain...

Heaven knows...

I wonder how my Mephistopheles is...

I'll just lie back here, waiting for the next pain.

There couldn't be any more of those to match what I have had...

"I guess you've had enough..."

That voice...

No...

I look up into that face.

Hatred.

Chagrin.

Resentment.

But what scared me the most.

Nostalgia...

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><p>AN: Might add a new pairing. MIGHT.<p> 


	4. House of Cards

AN: Watch out :)

I hate not being able to update in my usual speed. Stupid Internship.

**QueenVamp: **Believe it or not, most of those people pegged me on the Alert notifications. Dude, I was so touched. So they'll know this'll be coming. And hopefully, they'll read it.

SaPphIr3S3aMaId3n: Thank you, thank you! I hope you'll enjoy this one as much as you seem to have enjoyed its predecessor ;X

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><p>Sugar cubes.<p>

Why do they shape these things as a cube, anyway?

Are humans too lazy now to pick up a spoon and scoop it out?

But they do serve my amusement.

Look at what a veritable castle I made.

They would be harder if they were granules.

Then again...

I always loved a challenge.

Where did Watari_

"Sir."

Oh God.

"Your calls from the Parisian Ambassador."

"Can't he wait? I'm quite preoccupied." He can do something useful and get a nose job. Just a suggestion.

"He's been waiting for over an hour, sir."

Damn. That fast?

"Oh. Well. Connect him, if you please."

"_Bon soir, _I take it, for it is evening in your time, Detective."

"_Oui. Merci beacoup, monseigneur. _So. Let's get to the matters at hand?_"_

"A busy man, I see. Nothing less from you."

"Thank you." Come on, windbag. Make it at least .01 interesting.

"The recent assasination of our colleague has left us baffled_"

"Monsieur Le Vignt was quite a hated character in his province, was he not?" Fine. I'll make it interesting.

I can see the crease. In case he forgot, I don't dally.

"Well, yes. But it was because of his plans for the future Paris."

"The farmer's bill..."

"Yes, that. Of course, you know that changes can make people so uneasy."

"And you care for the people, Ambassador?"

The smile is becoming mechanical.

"Why, of course! Why ever not? They are my countrymen."

"But, as you said, the people are very anxious over changes. And you said you love the people. Why would you aid in the capture of the man who freed the people from such doubts?"

"It is still murder, monsieur! Surely, you of all people, will understand the bastardization of justice?"

"Of course. But I also understand procedures. You were not issued by your superior to contact me."

He got quiet.

"I was just ordered_"

"No, you weren't, monsieur. Your superior knows my system. To send the request directly to me withing two days. I have not received any reports for a month."

"We have just decided that our last hope is_"

"Me? No, I don't think so, monsieur. I have worked with the Parisian investigatorial system. We worked hand in hand once. I saw how it works. And they always reach a decision before a day ends, then that is when they know that I am, what the ICPSO say, 'the trump card'. But I believe that the Parisian government was intent on handling this by themselves."

He's quiet again.

Oh well, then, because you've waited for an hour.

"Would you like to know what I think, monsieur?"

He swallows. That's right. Listen closely.

"I believe you went and contact me, and then inform your superior that you have taken matters into your own hands, supposedly because of the grief you feel for your colleague. Such desperate measures can mark one innocent."

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

"But, Ambassador, you do know that such conspicuous actions trigger at least eighty-six percent of suspicion because of your history with Le Vignt."

"Bygones can be bygones_"

"He had you pegged under suspicion of embezzling funds from the budget set aside for the farmers waiting at Fontainbleu, and a report recently stating that he himself will file a complaint, as these farmers were under his care."

"You don't have_"

"Proof? Ambassador, you are forgetting that you are speaking to the top detective in the world. It would sully my reputation if I didn't hold an arsenal of information at my disposal. Unlike you. So unprepared. You don't even bother to stick your finger at our past meetings, hence, you don't know our system. It was your man under the interrogation of the police, probably leaking out as we speak, who gave way with his sloppy "bar room brawl" murder of a certain individual, whose finger prints were found in the railing, the exact measurement of the trajection from where the bullet came from, cameras to prove it. He was an ex-marine, court martialed for his drug usage. I'm guessing that for such a small fee just to get what he wanted, he immediately agreed. But of course, you didn't want to give away the fifty thousand francs that were waiting to be deposited in an account, but no doubt, a ruse. You didn't even bother to splurge on this plan. And you know what makes you look unbelievably ridiculous, Ambassador?"

He was scowling now. Good.

"You think this would go unnoticed by me, of all people. You insult me when you thought you can be as cunning as my last opponent. Why, you aren't even half the man he was."

A sneer. This should be amusing to hear.

"Such words, coming from a man who admires his own opponent, who killed countless people, but did the world a service."

"You misunderstand, Ambassador. I don't admire him at all. I will not go to his level. I respected him because he put up a fight. He went step by step, a worthy opponent. But you, sir. You don't even deserve the time we've spent today. I only handle cases that interest me. I don't handle babysitting."

I turn to her. The face, again. She never got used to me.

"Call our good friend, the Parisian Head of National Security, and send him my conversation with Monsieur Le Vignt."

"Oh...Um, it's been done."

I like her. I do. She's efficient.

If she only knows how to tell apart the important ones from the insanely inane trash, I would say it's a beautiful partnership.

"I'll find you, you upstart!"

And the moment's gone.

"You'll pay for this! I'll find you when I get out of the hellhole! He deserved what happened to him!"

"Thank you for your confession, monsieur."

He gaped like a fish.

A word of advice wouldn't hurt, then, despite wasting my time.

"Monsieur, we have at least fifty seconds left, as I have already sent the police to detain you."

I stared at his face in the screen.

"Since your motive was unrecquited love, crimes of passion don't go on the cerebral side to make people like me interested. You didn't even bother to hide the emails and photographs. Adieu."

I shut him out.

The police can handle his shock.

My companion, on the other hand...

"He was GAY?"

"Yup. Monsieur Le Vignt was quite popular with the ladies. And the same sex. On the day he was found dead, Inspetorre didn't see the hastily made stitch in the breast pocket of the shirt the victim was wearing."

Okay, for her benefit, I'll zoom the picture.

"See? I had this sent here and opened it. There was this letter."

I clicked to the next. I change my mind.

She's not my type of partner.

"You see, it says '_J'taime pour tojours, amor. Fraiche._' As Ambassador's emails were deleted, but otherwise, easily recovered, his suggestive that escalated to obsessive emails to Le Vignt were all signed as _Fraiche_."

"Are you sure it can't be from the fact that Le Vignt can have him thrown from his position?"

"That's another factor. But to ask the man to go to so much trouble of killing a man from at least four hundred yards, then sneaking in the apartment to sew a love letter in the breast pocket marks it as a bussiness matter as well as a crime of passion."

"Oh my..."

"Not surprising anymore. I had him pegged the moment I heard the news."

We walked back to my den, her trailing behind me.

"I don't understand... You said the case didn't interest you. But why take it?"

I control a sharp intake of breath. She can never know.

"If you sit in the middle of nowhere, and in front of you is a plastic spoon, you will unconciously twirl it after a time."

"I guess..."

"This was my plastic spoon. A shame it wasn't gold like before."

"You mean the Kira case?"

I don't want to delve into that right now.

"Yes."

I begin constructing another tower. And she's still not leaving.

"What?"

"Thank you..."

Really, now? "Hn?"

"For showing me all those. I really learned. Even if I'm just a part-time assistant."

Hey, now. I don't like the sound of that word.

"Well, have a good night, okay?"

And she was gone.

It has been over a decade since I last felt the awkwardness of loneliness.

Now, for my other responsibility.

You know that I would notice.

What are you planning, T?

Since Kira is gone, and such a small percentage, even with the appearance of a poor copycat, that another killer as cerebral with supernatural means will rise again, we don't need to resort to such things.

Wait a minute.

This is no _we._

Of course not.

You're stubborn.

Didn't you even consider the fact that I'm also tied to this?

I walk to that specially built phone and pushed a button.

After a while, and a few beeps, finally, an answer.

"_Yes?"_

"This is L."


End file.
